


Paula Knows Best

by Calliope_Soars



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Fluff, M/M, SamSteve Exchange, or as close to fluff as I can get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-07
Updated: 2015-05-07
Packaged: 2018-03-24 21:56:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3785698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calliope_Soars/pseuds/Calliope_Soars
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Not everything has to mean something. A party can just be a party. Right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paula Knows Best

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TobyAddison](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TobyAddison/gifts).



> Much love to my darling betas zombee & tinyfierceandsassy!
> 
> Thank you to the clever people who set up this exchange.  
> It's my first time joining in with something like this, so I hope my giftee is happy with this. :)

_  
I Went_

_I didn’t hold myself back. I gave in completely and went,_  
_went to those delectations that were half real,_  
_half wrought by my own mind,_  
_went into the brilliant night_  
_and drank strong wine,  
_ _the way the champions of pleasure drink._

-  **Cavafy**  
  


* * *

  
“So…”  
  


“Just come out and say what you want to say, Paula.”  
  
  
He closes his eyes and gives a breezy chuckle, more amused than anything else. Tilting his face up towards the sun, Sam rolls his shoulders back, ready for his friend’s curiosity to finally get the better of her. To be honest he’s actually quite impressed by the restraint she’s shown so far. He’d expected this interrogation weeks ago.

  
In lieu of a reply, Paula presses a cold beer in his hand. Sam recognises this as the gentle peace offering it’s meant to be and turns to direct his smile towards his best friend. The look she gives him tells him that she means no harm, that she’s allowed to meddle because she loves him like a brother. 

  
They clink bottles and Sam wraps a loose arm around her waist to bring her in closer. He kisses the top of her head; grateful for the quiet ease they’ve always been able to fall into despite any long absences from one another’s lives. After they’ve both taken long drags from their drinks, he rubs his hand along the length of Paula’s arm and waits for her to continue her thoughts.  
  


“I’m just saying Sammy. It’s not nothing.” Her words are spoken tentatively, like she’s scared she might misstep and cause this conversation to end prematurely.  
  


Sam doesn’t bother answering her, knows her too well to assume she’s done. Instead, he allows his gaze to move along his lawn, taking in the abundance of colourful decorations and the elaborate food and drink stations set up with what can only be described as chaotic enthusiasm. He’s smiling before he knows it. The haphazard display makes his chest feel warm with…he can’t quite find the word. It’s more than gratitude or contentment, that much he does know.  
  


Paula lowers her voice a little, careful with her words again. “I mean the guy went all out.”  
  


Sam hums, taking another quick gulp of his drink because yeah this is a lot. And that’s saying something, since his current hobby is hunting down Hydra cells across the world. His eyes catch on the barbeque that’s already been carefully set up and the first few guests milling around the big ice buckets filled with beer.  
He can’t actually remember the reason for this party, only his friend’s insistence, something about wanting to do something for Sam for a change. He hadn’t exactly been paying attention, Steve’s infectious excitement distracting him from what he was saying. It was just so good to see those pretty blues sparkle with glee. So Sam had lost himself in them and agreed to whatever, as long as those eyes kept that joyful glimmer. Before he could catch up, he’d already handed Steve his spare key, and now there was all this. Sam can feel Paula watching him, waiting for him to agree or explain or react in any way. He can’t quite catch the right words and feels his cheeks flush with heat. His mind doing that thing again where it replays all those easy smiles Steve had been gifting him with lately. When did those start becoming the best part of his day? Sam drains his bottle.  


“Steve’s a great guy.”  
  


Sam wants to cringe at the inadequacy of his words, to add more or say something bigger somehow. He knows he ought to tell her that Steve has been confusing him lately, explain how everything Sam says about the man seems like a massive understatement. Except he doesn’t get the chance cause there’s Steve, warm smile and all. He’s back from answering the front door already and has more guests in tow. Sam shakes off whatever hazy thoughts Paula has managed to stir up and steps towards the new group. He greets his VA co-workers and some folks from the neighbourhood before Steve smoothly escorts them to the food and drinks. Paula and Sam linger on the back porch, content as they watch a flustered Steve fiddle with the barbeque before he eventually gets some help from Sam’s next-door neighbour Joey.  
  


With a smug grin, Paula gives Sam’s arm a sharp pinch. “You were staring…again!” she laughs when she sees his annoyed face. “Obviously I don’t blame you. I just really don’t get what the hold up is. Why haven’t you locked that down, Wilson?”  
  


“It’s not –”  
 

“I swear to God if you say it’s not like that, I will do more than pinch you.  
  


“Who invited you again?”  
  


“Captain America did,” she declares brightly and waves at Steve, who gives a sheepish wave in return.  
  


Sam scoffs softly, “Ah yes, I’ve heard of that guy. He’s been known to do some dumb things. Seriously though, we’re good.” He pauses, “great, we’re great.” He doesn’t even need to look down at Paula to know that she’s not having any of this. “No, for real Paula, I’m serious. It’s just –”  
  


She regards him coolly and makes a rolling motion with her hand, as to say that he should just spit it out. Sam desperately wishes he had another drink in hand, his mouth having gone horribly dry all of a sudden.  
  


“I don’t want to spook him,” he sputters. “I like having him here, I’m fine with the way things are.”  
 

Paula tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, and then fiddles with the small silver stud adorning it. She purses her lips a little, but Sam jumps in before she can speak. “Look Paula, I get what you’re trying to say, but it’s only been a couple of months. He’s a friend…and I’m okay with that.”  
  


“Fine, I hear you. Gotta share my crazy insightful closing arguments with you though,” she winks, embracing Sam with both arms slung tightly around his waist. His best friend waits until he wraps an arm around her as well, then continues, “first of all, things moved a lot faster in his day. Point number two, being okay with something doesn’t sound like happiness to me. It sounds like settling and I love you too damn much Sam Wilson to see you settle for a simple _okay_. If he’s not into you, that would be one thing. But lord would you look at him – at the two of you!” Paula catches Sam rolling his eyes and tightens her hold on him in an attempt to convey her good intentions. “I’m done, I’m done! I’m shutting up – but you have to at least admit that you’re basically co-hosting this party right now. If that’s not something, then I don’t know anything anymore.”  
  


The tiny brunette stands on her toes to press a kiss to her friend’s cheek. “We both know I am always right,” she whispers happily.  
  


“Whatever you say, Paula,” Sam groans, shaking his head. “Now can we finally go get some food?”  
  


“I’ll get you another drink, Sammy. You earned it!”  
  


* * *

  
Sam feels content in a way that only good food, great company and a sunny day can manage. He walks his last few guests to the door and is pleased to note that everyone else seems to have had a great time as well.  
  


“Alright, time for the clean-up,” he mutters to himself and heads back towards the kitchen.

  
Suffice it to say that Sam is a little surprised to find his kitchen looking absolutely immaculate, even more so to see Captain America actually wiping down his counter with a rag while humming a tune off-key.  


“Damn.”

  
Steve looks up and gives Sam one of those slow easy smiles again. If it was any other person Sam would say he looked smug. “I figured I’d get started while you walked people out.” Never mind, Sam thinks, Captain America is definitely a smug bastard and a damn smooth one to boot.

  
That lovely warm sensation returns to spread through Sam’s chest and he doesn’t know what to say besides thank you. Of course Steve merely shrugs at this, since he’s pretty awful at accepting gratitude or compliments of any kind. Once again Sam appears to have lost the ability to find his words, so nervous that he’ll muck up this moment. It feels immensely significant. So he’s rooted to his spot, mutely watching as his friend finishes up. It’s odd that he never noticed how Steve moves through his home with an easy familiarity. Like he’s always been a part of Sam’s space, his life. It’s even stranger to consider how happy that thought makes him.

  
“Did we co-host today?” Sam blurts out, cringing immediately because that is definitely not what he had meant to say. Why is he so nervous? Paula was definitely to blame. Although recently, simply being alone in a room with Steve has been known to have this effect on him. Sam wipes clammy hands on his jeans and sticks them in his pockets so his fidgeting will be less apparent.  


With obvious mirth dancing in his eyes, Steve leans back against the counter, and crosses his arms in front of him. “I did most, if not all of the work, but I’ll share some of the glory I guess.” The blond arches one brow, “actually, you did provide the location, Sam. So there ya go!” Steve laughs out loud then, kindly since that’s the type of man he is. Sam nods, unconsciously having moved closer to his friend.  
  


“Saw you talking to Paula just before she left.” By some miracle, his tone stays nonchalant.

  
“I like her.”

  
Steve states this so genuinely that Sam almost wants to tell him about Paula’s matchmaking agenda, about how much it appears to have affected him. He waits for the blond to elaborate, but all he gets is a half smirk that’s more adorable than infuriating. Realising Steve’s not going to spill what he discussed with Paula, Sam knows he has to change tactics. Before he can formulate an adequate sequence of words that don’t make him look like a pre-teen with a crush, Steve is moving towards the fridge.  


“I put some of the leftovers in the freezer,” he opens the little door to reveal neat stacks of Tupperware containers (labelled of course). “Only your favourites, so you’ll have something to tide you over while I’m in New York next week. I know you don’t take care of yourself if it’s just you to cook for, so defrost those when you get home. Don’t forget!” Steve rearranges some of the containers, fussing until he’s satisfied.  
  


All the almosts between them seem to fill up the room, and Sam can’t focus on anything but those happy blue eyes staring back at him. Did he help put that light there? Oh God, he hopes so. Before he can think about it, Sam closes the freezer door and inserts himself into Steve’s personal space. His heart feels like it might burst out of his chest, but that doesn’t dissuade him from carrying on. Sam takes hold of Steve’s wrist, rubs his thumb along his pulse and then gently presses his mouth against Steve’s. _No more almosts_ , says the voice in his head (which sounds a lot like Paula right now).  
  


“I take it you liked the party then,” Steve deadpans, despite the handsome shade of pink colouring the tops of his ears. “Or was it the leftovers specifically?”  
  


“I probably should’ve done that sooner.” Truthfully Sam wants to do it again, but backs out of Steve’s space a little. It’s like suddenly someone flicked on the lights and revealed all these things that were always here to begin with. All this potential that Sam thought had been unattainable. His fingers are still grazing Steve’s wrist, still trailing along his pulse point.  
  


“Probably.”  
  


Steve holds Sam’s gaze, a fond expression on his face. Why hadn’t he said ‘definitely’ instead? Sam lets go of the other man as doubts start to creep in.  
They stand there – at an impasse – the space between them smaller than usual but not as intimate as Sam would like. He longs to push in and press his frame as close to Steve’s as he can. Except in that moment, Sam is a coward, having used up all his bravery on that shadow of a kiss. He glances around the kitchen for something to occupy himself with, but is quickly confronted by how spotless everything is. How Captain America threw him a party and then stayed to tidy up until his house was pristine. The situation is so surreal that Sam feels off balance and awkward now that they’re no longer touching. He tries, but he can’t quite make himself meet Steve’s eyes. They’re in wholly unchartered territory now and Sam Wilson is not as quick on his feet as he pretends to be.  
  


Steve brushes his hand over Sam’s shoulder, all the while beaming at him.  
“You know earlier I told Paula to stop pushing you. Didn’t want you to freak out.” The ‘like you are now’ bit is graciously left unspoken. His smile turns sympathetic, his tone solemn, “I wanted you to be sure.” Steve recreates the light kiss they shared earlier, sweeping his finger along Sam’s bottom lip afterwards. Sam can’t help think it’s too careful, too brief. Instead of voicing these thoughts, he nods at Steve’s words, loses himself in those blue eyes and easy smile of his.  
  


“I’m sure!” Sam steals another quick kiss, wants to linger but knows this is important. “I do what you do, only slower.”  
  


Steve actually snorts out loud at that, pressing his forehead against Sam’s shoulder. Sam takes this as permission to touch him as well, relief and nerves pulling short breathy laughs from his chest.

  
Steve leans back a bit so he can cup Sam’s face with his warm wide hands, “So tell me, how do you like your eggs?”

  
“Scrambled…I guess?” he mumbles in response, his forehead wrinkled in confusion.  
  


“Ok, I think we have enough eggs for those.”  
Sam is about to ask what the hell Steve is talking about when he spots the blond’s raggedy duffle bag next to the front door. “Oh,” he croaks, coughs and valiantly tries for a cooler tone, “Okay yeah, so you wanna stay for another beer?”

  
Steve’s face morphs into something strikingly hopeful, yet he still pauses a few beats in case the offer is rescinded. With fierce and immediate clarity Sam realises he loves this man, and brings his arms around Steve’s waist to pull him closer. Bodies pressed this tight against each other, Sam leaves no space for doubts to creep between them. He slants his mouth against Steve’s, kisses him so deeply they both lose their breath.

  
“A drink sounds good. Let me change into something else first.” Steve sounds deliciously breathless as he untangles himself and reaches for his bag. Sam gives a happy nod when Steve makes his way to his bedroom to change.

  
“Oh and Rogers,” Sam shouts after Steve, “don’t you dare tell Paula any of this, she’s insufferable when she’s proven right!”

 


End file.
